


Atrophic Scars

by ThetenthtenbeingofTen



Series: Thorny Dawn Universe [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gay Sex, Genital Piercing, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Disfigurement, Past Relationship(s), Piercings, Sadism, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 00:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18325073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetenthtenbeingofTen/pseuds/ThetenthtenbeingofTen
Summary: Peter had never let go of the past. He clung to it even now. He clung to the memory of his Ria.But Ria was dead.Mihail had sworn himself never to go back. 15 years he had spent leaving his past behind.He wasn't going back; ever. Ever.But he did.Ria lived.





	Atrophic Scars

**Author's Note:**

> When Peter spots Mihail one morning, while drinking his morning coffee in his favorite bakery, he can't stop himself. He calls his name, and against all odds, Mihail doesn't run.
> 
> Warnings: Extremely dubious consent! Past and present abuse, rough sex, self-hatred and bad language.

By now, the lady behind the counter knew him well. She smiled as soon as he entered and started preparing his coffee without him having to say a word.  
Peter appreciated it, more than he could put into words.

He gave her a heartfelt smile when she slid the cup of coffee over the counter and sat down in a corner.  
He came here every morning.

Of course it would probably be cheaper to brew his own coffee in the morning, and it would certainly be easier to just sit in his underwear while morning news filled the silence. His wallet would be grateful too, for he wasn’t exactly making a lot of money.  
As it turns out, you don’t make much money as a freelance piercer. He did have a website, and he left leaflets in the bakery and some other places, but in this industry the truth is that you won’t make money, unless people know your name.  
Or that of your shop.

After he got out of prison, while he was still in the mental ward, his relative had died.  
The body-mod-shop he owned was shut down.

And with it Peter’s future.

He got most of his money from the state, since he didn’t make enough money to sustain himself. He tried to get a job; of course he did.  
He was well educated – well enough to get an okay job at least – but nobody seemed to care.  
He had been in prison, he was a diagnosed sadist and he was gay. No thank you, sir. No jobs for you.

He wasn’t in the mood for food this morning.  
He wasn’t in the mood for coffee either, but he’d rather choke down some – truly good – coffee here, than sitting at home alone.

He needed to go out today anyways, so why not start early? He had hoped to feel better once he came here.  
The lady who served him most mornings was cute. She had thin, straight and blond hair, a handsome face and big, green eyes.  
Peter wasn’t sure if she wore make up. If she did, she did a good job keeping it natural.

Peter liked that.  
He didn’t mind make up, he didn’t mind the outgoing, eye catching get up many others would sport, but it often felt too… raw.  
Too familiar.

Too much like Mihail.  
The strong man with his hot pink glasses, with that magenta hair and the gleaming piercings.

Too much like him, when he ached for Ria. For his Ria.

Peter didn’t believe in fate or anything. He didn’t like doing thought-experiments either, questions of “What if…?” because they didn’t do anything; didn’t change anything.  
What had happened was over and done, and couldn’t be changed, no matter how much he wanted to.

But still, he sometimes found himself praying silently to anyone who wanted to listen – god, the devil, the universe, the uncaring nothingness beyond the stars… - to give him another chance. To take back the scars he’d put on Ria, to give him back the innocence that he had destroyed.

But nobody ever listened, nobody did a thing. Nothing changed.

 

So Peter sat alone at his table, with his coffee, watching the lady behind the counter absentmindedly as she served one patron after the next.  
He wished he had that kind of joy in his life… his heart ached when he saw her smile at her customers, wishing them a good day with a cheerful voice.

He saw her expression change a bit as she seemed to get more shy as she saw the next client walking up to the counter, and the instant Peter saw _who_ that client was, he understood why.

It was Ria.  
No, Mihail.

And Mihail was a striking figure to behold, drawing attention wherever he went, whatever he did. He gave the girl a smile and asked for a loaf of a specific kind of bread and a ciabatta bread with walnuts.

He hadn’t noticed Peter yet…  
Peter sat well hidden from view, so it wasn’t surprising… he should let Ria go… he should stay quiet and just… let him go…

But instead he called his name.

“Ria”

Mihail froze and looked at Peter, wide eyed. Peter gave a sheepish smile and rose from his seat, approaching Mihail, whose hand hovered above the counter, still holding the money he owed the girl.

“Let me buy you a coffee…” Peter offered, pulling out the spare change that he had gotten back after buying his own coffee. It was just barely enough to buy a coffee for Ria, but it was worth it… 

“What do you want in return?” Mihail asked suspiciously and finally handed over the money to the girl.

Peter smiled, “Just some of your time,” he said innocently. Mihail looked at him for a moment.

He should leave it behind. His past, his pain, his scars… he had Mattias, didn’t he?  
He could pretend to be a blank canvas with him… right?

No…  
No, it wasn’t right. It never was…

He stepped aside, allowing Peter to come up to the counter, their shoulders almost touching.  
“An espresso with a shot of milk?” Peter asked, remembering his breakfasts with Ria as though no time had passed at all.

Mihail wanted to correct him – he preferred plain black coffee nowadays – but he didn’t have the heart to say it.  
The mere mention brought back memories he held dear. Those were memories that were good… moments where the pain wasn’t in the foreground of his mind.  
Moments of harmony and comfort…

“Yeah,” he said softly and allowed Peter to buy for his coffee, and to carry it to his table.

“Please, have a seat,” Peter said warmly and sat in his chair again. Mihail sat as well, crossing his legs and placing the paper bags holding his bread on the table between Peter’s and his coffees.

 

A moment passed in silence, when both of them just looked at each other without truly seeing anything; both taken aback by the unlikelihood of their meeting, of them being together again… 

Finally Peter spoke up and gestured Mihail’s coffee.  
“Don’t let it get cold, Ria”

“Mihail,” Mihail corrected. He couldn’t admit that the name still sent chills down his spine… re-lighting the flames of passion within his heart that had died all those years ago.  
Flames that he had once tried to re-awaken by putting back his piercings… to no effect. The fire had been lost, and he had told himself that it was better that way; that it was a bad kind of fire, that it hurt and destroyed…

Peter looked hurt when Mihail corrected him, but nodded. “Forgive me,” he said, and even though it was just about Mihail’s name, the weight of their past sat heavily within those words.

Mihail hated it.

“So,” he said and grabbed the cup of coffee, “you have my time. You better use it well.”

Peter bit his lip and regarded Mihail for a few seconds, watching him as he took a careful sip from his cup.

He watched the steam clouding up Mihail’s glasses, he watched his adam’s apple move as he swallowed, and he couldn’t help but watch as Mihail licked his lips, setting down the cup again. God, he wanted to do things to him… take those glasses away to make him blind and dependent on him… feel his adam’s apple move under his hand as he choked him, bite Mihail’s lips, watch them glisten with his cum… god… he wanted to do things…

“I am… using my time well,” Peter assured hoarsely. Mihail’s eyes narrowed and Peter quickly took a sip of his own cold coffee to distract himself.  
“In all seriousness though,” he started again and leaned forward a little, “how have you been? How are things with your girl?”

Mihail leaned back and crossed his arms, pursing his lips as he contemplated his reply.

“I have been… fine,” he finally said. Everything about him was guarded and dripped with distrust and resistance. “And _my girl_ is doing well too. She’s at home today,” he added after a moment.  
Peter smiled, “Waiting for you to come back?” he asked sweetly and took another sip from his cup.

Mihail shook his head, “Her home,” he clarified, and immediately wished he hadn’t said it, as he watched Peter’s eyes light up with… hope.

“I have a man though,” Mihail quickly pointed out, uncrossing and recrossing his legs.

“A girl and a man,” Peter said with a deep chuckle. This truly wasn’t his Ria anymore. This was Mihail… this was a man who lived for himself… he wasn’t easy prey… he was a man who took what the wanted, who pursued those who he was interested in… he was a hunter… and that just made him that much more desirable. Peter wanted to hunt him down and break him… bring out the prey in him again… have his Ria back.

Peter’s expression fell, and he bit his lip with a pained look in his eyes. Mihail knew this look.

“Ria is gone,” he pointed out with a sneer. “You killed him.”

“I know,” Peter whispered and reached over the table, as though he wanted to grasp Mihail’s hand, but the younger pulled back, glowering at Peter.  
“You killed him,” he repeated and looked into Peter’s eyes.

“I know,” Peter repeated in turn and shook his head, “and I mourn his death every single day,” he confessed.  
He gave Mihail a blurry-eyed glance, before turning away and rubbing at his eyes and cheeks with the heel of his hand.

Mihail watched Peter wipe his unshed tears and gripped the table with both hands, teeth grinding painfully as he tried to contain his anger.  
How dare Peter act so fucking hurt, how dare he weep like it hurt him so much… how dare he be in pain after all the things he’d done to him?!

“I loved you,” Peter said quietly, calmly… looking into Mihail’s eye. “I still love you,” he added after a moment.

Mihail fell limp.

He stared at Peter for some time.

Peter had said _you_ ; not Ria. Not Ria… but him. Him.

Terrified by this confession Mihail grabbed his coffee and finished the whole cup in one big gulp. He set it down and rose from his chair, grabbing his bread and practically fleeing from the table.  
“Your time is over,” he choked thickly.

“Wait,” Peter said quickly, rising as well, “Mihail, wait, please!”  
He grabbed Mihail’s wrist and held him. “Please… give me more time,” he begged quietly, his breath hitting Mihail’s face as he spoke.  
“I don’t want to be the ghost that haunts you…”

Mihail opened his mouth and shook his head, trying to say something… but nothing came out.

“I… wish you were a ghost,” he breathed then, “but you are real. You are here, you are _holding_ me back. _Let me go._ ”

Peter’s fingers uncurled from Mihail’s wrist and he withdrew.  
“Forgive me,” he said and leaned against the table. “I have no right to hold you…” he admitted and sighed.

Mihail shook his head and looked around the bakery. There were too many people here… they needed to be on neutral ground but… not in public.

“You never had the _right_ to hold me,” he hissed and even though he wanted to just turn on his heel and walk away, he just had to see the impact of his words in Peter’s eyes… he just had to.

But Peter wasn’t hurt.  
He was angry.

“Oh,” he said quietly, “you, consenting to my actions didn’t give me the right to do as you asked?”

“You coerced me,” Mihail whispered sharply. Peter was having none of it.  
“Did I now?” He raised an eyebrow, and stood right in front of Mihail. “Did I really coerce you into opening up to me? Revealing your secret name to me, undressing before me, exposing your heart to me…?” He whispered into Mihail’s ear while his hands slid under his shirt, fingertips tracing those old scars that he put on him.

Mihail shuddered and turned away.

“Go on ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” Peter whispered into Mihail’s nape and let him go.

 

Mihail stood outside the bakery like a statue.  
His heart was beating out of his chest, and his back was drenched in cold sweat. He was so disgustingly thrilled… so deadly terrified, so painfully aroused… 

Peter was still his master. The man pulled his strings and made him dance like a puppet… and he let him.

When Peter joined him he mutely started walking. Peter followed.

He was drunk on hope… drunk on love, on lust, on desire and pain…

He was screaming at himself to stop, to let Mihail go and live his life at last… but he just couldn’t. He had seen into him in a way that he hadn’t been able to for fifteen years, and what he saw had struck him with such force, he truly couldn’t help himself.

 

Before long they stood in front of Mihail’s apartment door, and Mihail was letting them in. It was surreal how harmonious it seemed.  
They took off their shoes, hung up their jackets and when Mihail went into the kitchen to put away the bread Peter followed, washing his hands in the sink.

You’d never think that anything ever happened between them to tear them apart… but it had… and still their harmony and balance hadn’t died.

 

Mihail threw a nervous glance at Peter and gestured for him to got to the living room. “Have a seat on the couch,” he said and pushed up his glasses.

Peter smiled.  
“Sure,” he murmured and went to the living room, chuckling to himself when he saw Mihail’s decor.  
It was flamboyant and almost kitschy, but somehow it fit him. It was the kind of stuff that would look ridiculous in anyone else’s home, but was just right for a person like Mihail.

Mihail…

 

When he came into the living room after a few minutes Peter gave him a warm smile and an appreciative nod.

Mihail had taken out his piercings.

Was he submitting, or defying…? Peter wasn’t sure, and that’s what made it so thrilling. He moved over a little, indicating Mihail to join him; which he did.

“I can’t go back, Peter,” Mihail said after a moment, voice sounding mournful and pained.

“I know,” Peter said softly and turned his upper body towards Mihail, resting his elbow upon the couch’s backrest.

Mihail shook his head and folded his hands in his lap. He had learned to look back upon his and Peter’s past with fear and hatred. It had taken him so long to ingrain these feelings within his mind and heart… only for Peter to come back into his life… and change everything again.

Slowly Peter inched his arm closer to Mihail’s shoulders, resting his hand in his nape at first, then on his shoulder, and lastly curled his hand around to wrap his hand around Mihail’s neck.  
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, lips brushing against Mihail’s ear.

Mihail’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, lids shutting.

“Yes”

 

And just like that Peter’s fingers curled tighter around his neck, sending a terrified shudder down Mihail’s spine.  
Peter choked him for a few seconds, before letting go, grabbing Mihail’s chin instead to hold him in place. He looked him in the eye and kissed him.

It was a hungry kiss; starved in fact.

Mihail leaned into the kiss with such need it actually surprised them both. Peter’s fingers released Mihail’s chin, instead grabbing a fistful of his hair as he raised his other hand to cup his scarred cheek and pulling him in closer as he placed his knee between Mihail’s thighs, pinning him to the couch.

Once they parted Peter’s thumb brushed along the scar on Mihail’s face; his fingers trailed down to his neck, mapping the scarred area of his jaw and throat, while his other hand came up to brush back Mihail’s hair.

Mihail was crying silently, tears forming in his eyes and running down his cheeks.

It sent chills down Peter’s spine to see this expression in his eyes again… He took away Mihail’s glasses and set them aside. Mihail let him.  
Peter leaned forward and licked up the tears, pressing kisses to Mihail’s scarred eye, then pulled back to look at him.  
He smiled and kissed him again, nibbling on his bottom lip, before trailing his kisses down Mihail’s chin, to his jaw and neck… 

He ran his teeth along the edges of Mihail’s atrophic scars, gnawing at them, as though he wanted to tear them open once more.

Mihail found himself staring into the distance; eyes unseeing, mouth dry, hands wet, breath shallow…  
His heart was racing, and he knew that Peter knew, he knew Peter felt it as he sucked on his neck, right above his pulsating artery.

Peter’s hands slowly slid down Mihail’s arms, down to his waist, where he started to push up Mihail’s shirt, exposing his chest… revealing that he hadn’t taken out _all_ his piercings.

Incredibly aroused and emboldened by this revelation Peter slid off the couch, crouching between Mihail’s thighs as he dove forward to put his mouth on Mihail’s nipples.  
His tongue found the pierced nub immediately and started dancing around it, tugging and pulling on the metal jewelry.

Mihail’s breath hitched, and his hand slid into Peter’s hair, gripping a tuft to hold him in place. Peter growled lowly and grazed his teeth over Mihail’s sensitive skin, catching his nipple between his incisors and bit down gently.  
The pain shot through Mihail like an electric shock. His mouth fell open in a silent cry, while his member throbbed. He was painfully aroused… and Peter knew it. He let go of Mihail’s nipple and moved one of his hands from Mihail’s shirt down to his jeans, undoing them.

He pulled Mihail’s jeans open and tugged down his briefs, freeing his cock.

A strange feeling of familiarity and fondness came over Peter when he saw it. He still remembered every single vein, all his weak spots… and even though Mihail had visibly matured, it was still the same body as the one he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

With a smile Peter ran his fingers through the trimmed patch of hair at the base of Mihail’s member, nails grazing his skin from his happy trail down the length of his erection, all the way to the tip.

Mihail panted, staring down at Peter with wide, glassy eyes.

“Am I coercing you now?” Peter asked huskily as his lips hovered just above Mihail’s glans.

Mihail was at a loss for words, lips trembling as he looked down at Peter, his hand still locked in his short hair.  
He should say yes, should push him away and kick him out for good before they crossed the line… 

His eyes fell shut and he lowered his head in defeat.

He cried out when Peter’s fingers curled around his shaft and gave a careful tug, he moaned when Peter took him into his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against the underside of his cock, letting him feel his tongue piercings as it slid against his skin, getting caught on his veins and creases.

Peter let go of Mihail’s shirt entirely, cupping Mihail’s chest with both hands, thumbs pressing into his nipples as he suckled on Mihail’s length.  
He pulled away and growled, “Take it off,” before taking him back into his mouth, sucking hard.

Mihail did as he was told and tossed the shirt aside. He placed his hands over Peter’s, slowly sliding them down his arms before resting them on Peter’s shoulders, fingers digging into his skin.

Peter rolled his shoulders slightly, and moved his hands up Mihail’s chest, before pulling them down, nails drawing red streaks down Mihail’s torso.

He took Mihail’s cock deep into his throat, lips pressed into his base, teeth grazing his skin while his hands slid down behind his back and into Mihail’s pants, cupping and kneading his ass. Mihail shuddered and rolled his hips involuntarily as his fingers dug deeper into Peter’s shoulders.

When Peter pulled off of his cock and started to kiss and bite at Mihail’s stomach, his eyes rolled back in their sockets. He did nothing to stop Peter as he pulled him forward so his ass was resting on the edge of the couch, he did nothing to stop Peter as he tugged down his jeans and underwear. He let them pool at Mihail’s ankles and settled between his thighs, with his knees bending over his shoulders.  
“Stop...” Mihail breathed, tensing up. “I’m not clean,” he warned; a last attempt at convincing Peter not to do it, but the older male merely smirked.  
“Has that ever stopped me?” he asked and before Mihail could say another thing, he pressed his face into his crotch, nose resting against the underside of Mihail’s balls, lips brushing his guiche-piercing. This piercing was his mark… all of them were, but this one was special.  
It was the one that only he was meant to see and know about…

White-hot jealousy coursed through Peter’s veins as he remembered Mihail’s words: _I have a man though,_ and he grazed his teeth along the sensitive skin of Mihail’s perineum.

“Your man,” he rumbled, “did he see this one?”  
He pulled away just far enough to meet Mihail’s eye.

Mihail sensed the smallest chance for a little victory there and smiled. “Yes,” he said lowly, “more than once, and so did others.”

Peter let out a guttural growl and dove down again, biting and sucking at Mihail’s balls, his perineum, the juncture between his crotch and his thigh, his thigh and his belly, marking him as his own again and again.  
“So my little Ria has become a slut while I wasn’t there, huh…?” he whispered dangerously, catching the piercing between his teeth and tugging firmly.

Mihail cried out, hands flying down to pry Peter off of him… to no avail.

“It’s been fifteen fucking years you piece of shit!” he yelled raspily, kicking his legs as best as he could with his ankles tangled in his pants.  
Peter shot forward at that, bending Mihail in half and glowered at him.

“It HAS been fifteen _fucking_ years, Ria!” he bellowed in his face. “Fifteen years that I’ve been alone, fifteen years without a single person who loved me, who accepted me… you were that person, Ria. You were everything and more… and you… threw me away just like that!”

Peter’s tears fell on Mihail’s face, mingling with his own, running down his cheeks.

“JUST LIKE THAT?!” he shrieked, voice breaking, lashing out and hitting Peter in the face. “Just like that?! You fucked me up, you… you disfigured me, you fucking blinded me!”

Peter yelled and held Mihail down, bruising his wrists with his grasp and pressed his hips into Mihail’s.  
“I did, Ria, but I never meant for it to happen, we made a mistake, for fuck’s sake! But a mistake doesn’t undo love!” he argued, voice thick with emotion.

“You would have killed me…!” Mihail wept, even as a trickle of precum ran down his erect length. “You weren’t there… I was alone in that room, I was in so much pain and I couldn’t even scream…”

Peter released Mihail’s wrists immediately and cupped the back of his head, kissing him deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against his lips, “I wanted to be with you… I wanted to be by your side…” he swore again and again, “they didn’t let me near you!”

“Excuses…!” Mihail whimpered between kisses.

Peter shushed him gently, muffling Mihail’s sobs with his lips, swallowing his cries as he held him tightly.  
He laced his fingers through Mihail’s hair, while the other went down between them to undo his own pants and free his erect cock.

He gripped himself and pressed his bulbous tip against Mihail’s entrance.

They were dry.  
This would hurt… 

He pushed in and grunted deeply. Mihail screamed hoarsely.

This could well do lasting damage… 

He pushed in deeper, groaning as Mihail’s tight hole engulfed his cock, skin pulling on skin… god, it was awful.

Mihail lay helplessly on the couch, staring at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell with irregular gasps and sobs, his body shook.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, soaking into his hair.

 

Peter’s cock throbbed, precum oozing from his tip. He felt lust pooling heavily and hotly in his belly, and it sent chills down his spine.  
He moaned deeply and rolled his hips into Mihail’s, drawing out the sensation as much as he could, eyes never leaving Mihail’s face.

“P-Peter…!” Mihail whimpered breathlessly, as Peter slowly withdrew from him. “You are hurting me...”  
“I know. I love you,” Peter replied softly and kissed Mihail’s chin.

“Peter…”

“Yes?”  
He rolled his hips into Mihail’s again, slowly pushing his dry cock into him. Again.

More tears ran down Mihail’s cheeks and he took a shuddering breath, looking up at Peter.

 

_Call me Ria._


End file.
